11.8.25
There is a beautiful sky out there this morning. Tinges of pink and peach herald another fine day. My first cup of tea is on the brew, a fire crackling away in the old wood cooker and Bonnie contentedly curled up on her blanket in the living room. As I look over at the easy chair sitting beside mine, it has not changed in the past week. A hand crocheted blanket still drapes over the back, a brown towel covers the seat, the only thing missing in this picture is my dearest Darrell.
The month of October passed in a blur and yet at the same time, looking back, it seems a lifetime ago. Was it really only five weeks since my dearest was taking his morning walk down the driveway where I would drop him off at the old schoolhouse after we returned home from the post office? Certainly, in the preceding month he had lost a lot of weight as food no longer appealed to him. Yes, it was taking longer to fill our woodshed as my dearest had to stop for a rest after running the wood splitter for only a short while. But that was alright. Slow and steady had become our mantra over the past couple of months, both for Darrell and for me.
Then suddenly, mid-October, we were on a downhill slide. A slippery slope that no matter how hard one tried to slow the descent, to grab fruitlessly for a handhold, we were powerless to stop.
I knew my time with my dearest love was coming to an end. Being an EMT and knowing what I know, suddenly went from being a blessing to becoming a curse. For you see, I knew what was happening, I knew I nor anyone else was able to stop it. I could not fix it. All I could do was stay by my Darrell’s side. Tend to him, care for him, wrap my arms around him, tell him over and over again how much I love him.
Those last two weeks together are ones I shall always cherish. Family came and went, taking turns to be with their dad as well as making sure I ate and drank. Jody, a local hospice nurse – a true angel with invisible wings – came and made sure I had all I needed to take care of my dearest. Other hospice folk, Stacie, April, Randy and Wendy were in and out, what amazing people they are! Finally, a bed for Darrell was installed in our living room right beside our settee so I could sleep next to him.
During the day, I seldom left my dearest’s side. At night, after building up cushions on the settee to match the height of Darrell’s bed, laying half on the settee and half on the bed, I could doze with my arms wrapped around him. I knew the end was coming, for now my dearest would neither eat nor drink, his body was finally shutting down, yet I was selfish. I did not want him to go and told him so as we lay there, side by side each night, my tears soaking his t-shirt, his hand squeezing mine.
Then, Monday morning came. It was very early yet I was suddenly awake. There was a change. My dearest had had a peaceful night and as I lay there in the early morning darkness, I suddenly knew it was time. Holding him close in my arms, I stroked his brow and through my tears, finally let him know it was okay. I knew he had to go but would still be here with me, always watching over me. As I held him close, telling him how much I loved him and knowing how he loved me with all his heart and soul, my dearest gently left this world. I cannot yet fully share the anguish, the grief, the emptiness inside me right now. It is too raw an emotion.
He made his final journey away from the farm that Monday morning in the tender care of a dear friend of mine from Halfway. As he was lifted from the bed onto Tami’s gurney, she gently covered him with a handmade quilt, adding another blanket adorned with the American flag on top in honour of his service to this country. With his face uncovered for this final journey, I kissed him one more time before he left, knowing he would be back home soon.
I made it through this first week alone by pretending my dearest had left for a week’s work in Bend. Yesterday, I met Tami in John Day and brought my Darrell home. It was not lost on me the significance that he left me on a Monday and came home on Friday… it was as if he had planned it that way. Now, my dearest is back home with me where he belongs.
Each morning, I wake up and the first thing I see is a picture of my dearest smiling at me. Around my neck, the small heart Darrell gave me on our first St. Valentine’s Day together – which has only been removed for my surgeries – now resides beside another symbol of our love. I had let Tami decide on a special token, something that contains a small part of my dearest inside and she chose the perfect piece. Knowing the love that we shared and will share forever, yes, what better a symbol than infinity.
This is by no means the end to our story, merely the turning of a page as a new chapter begins.
